How To Move On
by ShatteredElement
Summary: Everyone lost something in the aftermath. The things were all different, sure, but every time they turned around, something was wrong. Someone was missing.
1. Chapter 1

** Chapter One**

** Claudia: Never Knowing**

She spent a lot of time alone now, and it wasn't the easiest thing to do. Artie was trying to figure out how to perfectly time the stopwatch to bring back the Warehouse right before Sykes went into the portal so they could throw the bomb in after him while Pete, Myka, and Leena all tried to occupy their time with repairing the B&B. Claudia knew she wasn't very helpful with the whole repair effort, but she also acknowledged that she wasn't really fit to do much.

The destruction of the Warehouse was hard on all of them, especially Claudia, but due to their extreme personality differences they all missed different parts of it. Artie missed his office, Myka missed the ancient archives, and Pete definitely missed the Pete Cave. What Claudia missed most she hadn't actually been to see since it was moved to the Warehouse, however. While the loss of her whole life, as the Warehouse had become, was hard to come to grips with, what Claudia regretted most was the destruction of Steve's room. It had been her last real reminder of him, and then she had to watch it burn. Now how would he be remembered? Now who would look back and think about what a great partner, what a great man he had been?

Oh sure, she had the metronome, but she wasn't sure how to work it; wasn't sure how to bring someone back, and wasn't sure how to ensure the person she brought back was indeed Steve. Most days she would grab the metronome, her laptop, and the small memory card that Steve had hidden in the lighter and walk a few miles to a secluded place (they weren't that hard to come by after all) and sit with the metronome next to her and her laptop playing the message Steve had left.

Sure, it was painful to watch, but not as painful as knowing if she didn't figure out the metronome, she would never see Steve again. He had been taken from her so suddenly, so unfairly, that Claudia could not just let herself accept it. Besides, her grief had gotten to the point where she just couldn't cry anymore. Her eyes didn't even get blurry; they simply turned cold instead when Steve was mentioned. Only the sight of the metronome, her one chance, the one thing everything depended on, could soften her expression. The young techie was actually amazed, in a wry, humorless way that the Regents hadn't stepped in to take the metronome from her yet. Maybe they realized that taking it would only make Claudia angry, and they didn't want to make her mad when they were counting on her to become the next caretaker. Or maybe, she thought, Jane had told the other's to back off after Claudia's outburst about the connection between Steve's death and the Regents. Either way, she was secretly gratefully.

Claudia lay down in her bed at Leena's late one evening, gazing up at the ceiling with a blank look. She didn't want to sleep because of the nightmares, but then again, she had the same dreams when she was awake. She just couldn't get the memory of Steve's lifeless eyes staring back at her when she had ran into that room out of her head; his skin pale and clammy, the man she loved so much and so deeply murdered, his corpse left behind to taunt her. The mere recollection of the feeling of utter and complete pain, sharper than any physical or emotional trauma she had previously experienced washing over her at the sight still made her shiver.

"Claude?"

Turning her head slightly, Claudia saw Pete's tall form standing in the doorway. In her head, she heard Steve's nervous voice telling her about Pete's reaction to hearing he was gay.

_"It was so awkward,"_ _Steve said with a shudder. "My legs are still shaking. Do they really think that just because I'm gay I'm attracted to every other man?"_

A small smile creased Claudia's lips at the memory. "Yeah, Pete?" He had tried to protect her from seeing Steve's body, tried even at a moment when he was reeling in shock to defend her from harm.

"Well, all of us were sort of wondering," Pete said uncomfortably, standing hesitantly in the doorway. "If you were doing alright. You haven't been yourself since…you know."

"Do you expect me to be the same," Claudia snapped, sitting bolt upright with a sneer. "My best friend was just murdered in cold blood by a psychopathic killer your mother created! How am I supposed to be okay?"

Pete took a step towards her, his hands raised in front of him defensively. "You don't have to be, none of us expect you to be," he blurted quickly. "But Claude…we're still a family, and we still need you to be here with us. Right now none of us know where you are."

The innocent, concerned look on his face hit Claudia like a good right hook to the jaw, and the tears welled up in her eyes, starting to fall from the corners.

"I can't deal with this," she said shakily, taking a shuddering breath as Pete quickly crossed the room and enveloped her in his arms. "I can't do it, Pete."

"I know," he said softly, holding her tightly to him. "But you can change things, Claude. You will change things."

Claudia looked at him and then gestured to the metronome on her bedside. Pete handed it to her and she pressed the artifact to her lips.

"Bring back Steven Jinks," she breathed. Nothing happened. The tears flowed faster. "Bring him back," she said, shaking the metronome. "Bring him back!" she screamed it before dropping the metronome and burying her head in Pete's shoulder once again.

"Shh," Pete whispered to her comfortingly, trying not to let the tears in his own eyes fall. "Shh, Claude. We're all right here."

"Not all of you," Claudia said blearily. "One of you is missing."


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter Two**

** Pete: Family Comes in Two Sizes**

When Pete had entered that room to see Steve's corpse slumped in that chair, all the air vanished from the room, and the whole world seemed to constrict around his heart. Sykes, that monster, had killed Steve; Steve, the Boy Scout with no sense of humor, as far as he knew the only Buddhist to ever work at the Warehouse, and his coworker, no, his friend. What was worse was that he knew his mother, all those years ago, could have prevented every single bit of this. The pain of watching Steve be fired, the sharper pain of watching him turn on them, and the sharpest pain of all; watching him lying dead in front of them; it would destroy them, he could feel it.

Claudia couldn't see this, he knew that, but Pete had no idea how to stop her from coming up the stairs and peeking in. As he stumbled clumsily out of the room, leaning heavily on the railing in an attempt to steady himself, a bet he had made with Steve one day came back into his mind. It seemed like forever ago.

_"So do Buddhists really shave their heads and dance around the Christmas tree in robes?" Pete asked the younger man as they did inventory together in a secluded corner of the Warehouse._

_ "Sure," Steve replied, not taking his eyes off the artifact he was shelving._

_ "Hey, you're putting that in the wrong spot," Pete said, gesturing at the lamp in Steve's hand. "It goes over there." He pointed about two rows away._

_ "No, it goes here," Steve insisted, putting it on the shelf._

_ "Wrong."_

_ "Right."_

_ "Wrong."_

_ "Tell you what," Steve said, already sensing that this would be going nowhere. "We'll check with Artie, and if I'm right, you have to shave your head and dance around the Christmas tree with me."_

_ "And if I'm right?" Pete asked._

_ "Then…hmm…"_

_ "Then I get to walk around without my shirt for a whole day."_

_ Steve closed his eyes and shuddered. "Fine," he said. "It's a deal."_

_ Pete held out his right hand. "I like the odds of this bet, Jinksy."_

_ Steve took his hand and shook, grinning. "Me too."_

_ It turned out that Steve had been right. Pete, looking disgruntled, had turned and looked at the snickering man, waving a threatening finger._

_ "I'll get you back, Jinksy, you watch!"_

_ "I've never been so excited for Christmas in my life," Steve laughed before ducking out of the office._

_ "What was…?" Artie asked._

_ "Nothing," Pete growled, marching off after Steve._

He had failed Steve. Not only had he not been able to save the younger agent from his fate, but he somehow doubted that he would be able to take care of Claudia, and everyone knew how close the two of them had been. Now, back at the B&B, Pete couldn't stop his heart from snapping in half whenever he saw Claudia. Not only did she look so devastated, he kept seeing Steve's shadow walking behind her, and the worst part was Steve always looked so happy. The rest of them couldn't look like that anymore. They all had forgotten how to laugh.

Jane popped in to check on them every few days or so, but she only really talked to Myka, Pete, Artie, and Leena. She and Claudia tended to avoid each other now. It tore Pete up that his families were seemingly caught up in a blood feud with him trapped in the middle.

He didn't know where to throw in his loyalties; with his mother who had raised him and loved him through thick and thin, even if he hadn't always been able to see it, or with Claudia, the little sister he had completely embraced into his life, who he felt it was his duty to protect. Was it more critical for him to pay off old debts or to protect what he cared about? In all honesty, Pete didn't know.

Then again, his mother was also the reason his other family was in ruins right now, and as much as he tried to deny it Pete finally forced himself to face the facts. His mother had allowed the creation of Walter Sykes, the creation of Walter Sykes had allowed the threat to the Warehouse, and the threat to the Warehouse had allowed the murder of Steve Jinks. That was by far the hardest part of it, especially on Claudia.

Pete had attempted, clumsily, to talk about Steve with Claudia on multiple occasions, but the discussion was always short, brisk, and constantly dancing around the purpose. Claudia didn't open up about her feelings, choosing instead to lock the door or grab her laptop and the metronome before running outside. Only after their talk in Claudia's bedroom where she had collapsed sobbing into his arms did Pete finally understand how deeply the young woman was hurting.

"He said he wanted to protect me Pete," she had choked out in deep, shuddering breaths, looking up at him with pain fresh in her eyes. "He wanted to protect me because I reminded him of Olivia. He wanted to protect me because he couldn't protect his sister."

And as Pete held her, he realized that while biological family was important, nothing was more important than that small family that we make for ourselves.

And nothing was more fragile.

Later that night, he had ducked out of his room and wandered outside, eyes fixed up on the dark blue sky pricked with stars. "Don't worry, Steve," he whispered sadly. "I'll protect our little sister."

He had, somewhat foolishly, expected something like what happened in the movies to occur. But no stars twinkled, no breeze blew, no feeling of peace washed over him, and no disembodied voice was carried to him across the air speaking words of conformation and praise for his decision. When the world just stood still, Pete shoved his hands in his pockets and went back inside.


End file.
